Picking up on his energy instantly, Hwayeong leaned casually against the wall.
“...So,” he began, his tone measured, “don’t you have something else to tell me?”
“Sorry?”
“You said you had something to tell me—tomorrow night. Can’t you say it now?”
He asked as if it were nothing, but his voice was lined with subtle anticipation.
Hwayeong blinked, remembering what she’d said earlier that morning.
“Oh... that.”
She hesitated. He already knew what it was, didn’t he? Was there really any need to say it?
But then, something else came to mind.
“Oh, right.”
As if she’d nearly forgotten, she reached into her robes and pulled out a folded letter, holding it out to him.
Sinyeong, pretending not to look, felt his face gradually soften in surprise—and something close to bashful delight.
Hwayeong, startled by his reaction, blinked as he took the letter.
“...You’re surprisingly old-fashioned,” he said awkwardly.
“Pardon?”
“I mean, I didn’t expect this. I thought you’d just say it.”
